i turned 33 at the end of november. when i was 16 (or, let's be honest, 25) i thought that by 33 i would be a proper grown up. i would own a home, have at least one kid. i would no longer check behind the shower curtain for serial killers when i was home alone, and i would make sure that i ate the proper amount of servings of vegetables as indicated by the food pyramid.
not the case. i've been thinking so much about the idea of being a grown up lately, and what milestones do you have to reach before you are officially in the club. having a kid? marriage? owning a home? a driver's license with your ACTUAL address on it?
i am surrounded by people who seem like total grown-ups in so many ways, but then i find out a) their parents pay a HUGE part of their rent, or b) they got married a few months ago but their spouse still lives with their mom and has NEVER lived on their own. are they still grown ups? am i more a grown up because i am not on my parents' cell phone bill? or less a grown up because i still have a childhood stuffed animal in my bedroom and never pay my bills on time?
so much is different than when my parents were my age. people get married later, switch jobs more often, rent for life. last year at this time i would have moved out of new york in a heartbeat. if mike had gotten a job somewhere else, i would have moved pretty much anywhere in a second. because i love my job right now, and new york seems like the best place for mike's career, should i come to terms with the fact that i will never have a formal dining room that will never get used? at this rate, i might never have a kitchen table...
even though i definitely feel the pressure to "grow up" in the traditional sense, i also feel lucky that i am living in a place and time where, even at 33, i am free to figure myself out.
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